Reach For The Stars.
by girlstarfish
Summary: One good futuristic AU deserves another ...Yamato was perfectly happy as the aloof and cool pilot of a star cruiser. Daisuke was perfectly miserable as his mech. Then they pick up a distress beacon and nothing is going to be the same again. (Eventual yaoi
1. Default Chapter

Reach ****

REACH FOR THE STARS. FIRST PART.

Just the first part of something new I'm trying. Based on an idea that I got from an episode of star trek I watched years ago. Note, I don't actually watch Star Trek, and haven't even seen the end of the episode in question . . . which means that writing this will be interesting, to say the least. I'm not sure whether this will work or not, I also do not have an awful lot of time to devote to writing at present. What I'm actually saying is that I'd like to know whether people reading this would like to see it continued, or whether or not I should be devoting my time to bigger and better things . . . like studying Horace/Truth about Goggles/General Taito weirdness. Advice wanted!! Please respond. Thank-you 

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Two kids, lying on their backs in a field. 

Above them the sky stretched, seemingly full of endless stars. You'd have been hard pressed to find a night clearer than this one . . . 

"There," the smaller boy said, in tones as precise as if he was giving a lecture. "Scorpio."

His companion also pointed. "Mars."

"The Southern Cross."

"That horse thingy. You know, with the wings."

"Pegasus."

"Yeah." The taller kid leaned back with an air of satisfaction. "You know, Izzy . . . I'm going to fly amongst those stars one day."

"As a freighter?"

"Nah—I'm going to be a mission pilot."

"But—that's not possible!" The red headed boy sat up. "No human has ever managed to pass the tests!"

"Then I guess I'm going to have to be the first."

"Is that so?" The red head plonked himself suddenly on the other's stomach. "Well, in that case, you're going to have to beat me to it—"

"You're on!" The two of them rolled over, fighting. 

Above them, the stars watched.

--oOo--

"Your attention should be on your task, Motomiya."

The acid comment cut through my daydream like a knife. And just when I was getting to the good bit too. I was piloting a scout ship past the Zeban scythes and out into open space, and had just executed a perfect barrel roll to take out the command ship. Damm!

I turned my attention back to the console. It's our week for night bridge duty, not that I mind. The bridge is very cool when its just us, and I can wander round and look at things without the crew watching me and snickering about the mech getting above himself.

Thrust Ishida to spoil it. But then, Yamato Ishida spoils everything.

Allow me to elaborate.

All my life I wanted to be a pilot right? So you'd think getting assigned as mech to a Mission centre cruiser (and a fair sized cruiser at that) would be pretty cool, right? So did I . . . until I got assigned to be Yamato Ishida's mech. 

Man, Ishida is such a pain. Honestly, the guy never lets up. It's Motomiya this, Motomiya that, and all the time I can tell he's wishing he didn't have to put up with a dunce like me. I bet he thinks the only reason I got assigned this duty is because of my parts—

Yes, parts. I'm a human/cyborg mix. When I was younger, about eleven or so, the carrier I was living in got caught in a meteor shower, and I was one of the injured. And I mean, really injured. If it hadn't been for the robotic implants, I wouldn't be here now. As it was, I'm lucky that the crew that rescued the ship were sympathetic enough to want to fix me up at all. Most wouldn't have bothered—I'm space-born, after all.

Motomiya Daisuke, scum of the earth. Yep, that's me.

Ishida's earth born, of course. As if he could be other wise. He even looks noble, tall, elegantly shaped, with immaculately styled hair and dress. He always, no matter what, looks perfect. I mean that. We had an emergency evacuation run at three in the morning once, and he looked perfectly groomed. I almost slept through the entire thing. But yes, it's easy to see that Yamato—call him that and you die—has it made. He has hoards of admirers too, whom he doesn't give the time of day to. I don't see the attraction myself. Sure, I thought it was cool and all, getting assigned to be the mech of a famous pilot, one surely destined for great things in Mission Command. But he's a total grouch. The only person he ever looks glad to see is Takeru.

Takeru's his brother. You wouldn't believe it, he's like the total opposite of Ishida—see, I can't even think the name. He's open and friendly, and every time you see him you just get this huge silly grin all over your face—or maybe that's just me. He stopped and talked to me once. I suppose he was just waiting for his brother, but I've never forgotten it. He asked me about my work and he laughed at my stupid jokes. Not even the glare Ishida gave me when he finally showed up could make me feel bad about that . . . Takeru's on this ship now. 

He's in the Mission fleet like his Dad and brother. (Did I mention General Ishida? He's scary, nope, terrifying) A new recruit. I've seen him around the place in his uniform and he looks to be settling in fine. Not that I ever actually speak to him. Crew aren't supposed to bother with mechs beside their own. I would love to be Takeru's mech. Of course it'll be another year or even more until he can become a pilot, and I'm sure Ishida will have fired me by then for being too stupid, but I can dream . . . 

I blink as the console blips quietly at me. There's a faint pulse being picked up on the radar. I pull back the cover and hook myself up to the connection through my robotic hand . . . a radio message. It's faint, but it's too regular to be anything else. I look up to where Ishida is leaning against the wall, staring moodily out at the stars beyond. "Sir?"

"What is it?" Irritation creeps into his voice. Well sorry for existing.

"I've detected a faint radio message. Would you like me to relay it for you?"

He shrugs, not moving. "Might as well."

I concentrate a moment, sending the command to the computer. I'm much faster than any actual human would be—I can just talk to the computer through my parts. "There."

"—repeat, mayday," A clear voice says suddenly. "Our engines are out and our main generator failing. Tai is injured—please relay this message to mission base. Mayday, I repeat—"

I turn it down as the message repeats itself, a little breathless. A distress call, wow—we've never had one of those before. "What are we gonna do?"

Ishida scowls at me. "Always use the proper form of address when you speak to me."

"Sorry." I have to fight not to stick my tongue out at him. Knowing him, he has eyes in the back of his head—"Sir."

"What makes you think we'll do anything? Space is full of old messages, beacons and wrecks that haven't been turned off."

"But this isn't a part of space travelled very often," I point out. "Maybe they haven't been picked up. We should at least check—" I see his expression and hastily add, "sir."

I think he still wants to yell at me. Luckily, I'm saved.

"Oh, Yamato? Still on duty?" 

"I am on watch," Yamato bows, letting the use of his first name go unremarked. The only thing that's keeping him from giving Sora one of his infamous death glares right now is that fact that she's the Captain of this cruiser—and his fiancée.

"Your dedication to your work is admirable." Sora joins him by the window, not even glancing at me. She's very pretty, but doesn't suffer idiots kindly. I know from experience. Still, I envy Miyako—that's Sora's mech. She gets to do some pretty cool things. "You know," she purrs, her voice going all gentle. "Why don't you let me offer you a cup of something to get you through your watch? My quarters are not far from here . . .The mech can handle the bridge . . ."

"Thanks Sora," Yamato says. "But I'm afraid we're rather busy here. Motomiya just picked up a distress call."

What? 

Sora gives me an annoyed look then turns back to Yamato. "And you're going to investigate? How thorough."

"The distress call did mention Mission control. It could be one of our teams," Yamato says. "I was about to get Motomiya to locate the source when you entered."

"Well don't let me disturb you," Sora says. "I shall have the tractor beam readied and hanger 11 cleared."

I bend over the console trying to look busy as Sora passes me on her way out. Keep a straight face, keep a straight face—if I smile, Yamato will kill me.

"The source is a small shuttle, at point DQ788 on the screen," I report, once my voice is under control.

"Great. I'll take the tractor beam, you keep me posted of its location."

For all his arrogance, Ishida really is good at his job. We have the shuttle loaded into hanger 11 with no trouble at all. Ishida turn the bridge over to the automatic monitoring system, and steps aside from the window. "Coming Motomiya?"

"Of course!" Like I would miss this. "Sir!" Not even the fact that he looks like he would really like to kill me can spoil my good mood now. 

--oOo--

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"There you go, boys. Your first scout ship."

"What do you mean, first?" Izzy glared at the Agumon. "Are you implying that we are careless with space craft?"

The alien coughed. It sounded like **cough**'Admiral's new speeder'**cough** and Izzy glared at him. Before the short human could do anything a shout from his companion caught his attention. "Izzy, get over here!"

He obeyed, scrambling onto the viewing platform besides Tai. "What? Oh, my—"

"And it's really ours," Tai whispered. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yeah—"

"Heads up!" The Agumon tossed them the entrance card. "You might want to get it outfitted right away. News in the officer's quarter is that you're getting your orders tomorrow."

"Thanks!" Tai yelled back. The two humans, now alone, spent a few minutes just grinning at each other.

"Our own scout ship. We've finally made it."

"This is going to be awesome."

"You said it."

"So, shall we go inside?"

"In a moment. I haven't finished drooling over the outside yet."

"Well hurry up. I'm dying to see what sort of navigational range she has."

"She?" Tai paused, opening the door. "Who says our ships a 'she'?"

"It's traditional," Izzy protested. "Besides, we are not going to name it after your soccer team—"

"But they're a good soccer team!"

"I don't care! We're naming it something we both like."

"You do know that means we'll never find a name for it."

"Shut up," Izzy gave the taller boy a shove sending him tumbling through the open door. After a moments consideration, he jumped him. 

--oOo--

I sigh as I pull on my suit, wondering again how I ended up with Motomiya Daisuke for a mech. He was the most annoying person I knew—aside, of course, from his charming sister. If it wasn't for the fact that assignation to pilots was supposed to be random, I'd have suspected Sora of meddling. But that's just foolishness. My lovely fiancée wouldn't do a thing like that, would she?

Of course, and I sighed again, I didn't act much like a fiancé. I wondered again why I'd been so eager to escape her invitation before. The suggestion in her voice was obvious—and I was supposed to love her. Hell, we were getting married in a couple of months. So instead I was pulling on a contamination suit in preparation to investigating a beaten up wreck with the person at the top of my 'would like to seriously main' list. 

It didn't made sense.

Or rather, it made too much sense.

I squashed that thought quickly. Sora was a great girl, and the wedding wasn't for months. Plenty of time to fall in love with her . . . 

"Dude! This wreck is really wrecked!" Daisuke's voice floods my radio set.

I wince adjusting the volume. "Excuse me?"

"I mean sir, this wreck is really wrecked. Sheesh."

Despite his lack of elegance, I have to agree with him. The outside of the ship is a twisted, mess—warped and messy. "This looks like lazer fire," I say, fingering a burnt patch on the ship's hull. "They were lucky to get away at all."

Daisuke overrides the ship's security system, which he informs me, is on its last legs anyway, and we make our way into the ship.

The bridge is tiny, and like the outside a mass of twisted metal and frayed wires. "Looks like their shield got penetrated. I wouldn't have liked to have been the pilot," I say, looking at the pilot's seat—scorched and blackened.

"Contamination scan complete, no signs of viruses harmful to human life found," Daisuke informs me, pulling off the hood of his suit. 

I do the same. "See if you can call up the travel log. I'll take a look around, see if we can find any crew."

I leave the mech in the bridge, and wander down the tiny corridor. The two rooms I look in to are personnel rooms, a bedroom, and some sort of study. I move over to the table which is spread with star charts. 

"Ishida, sir?" Daisuke voice comes over the ship's radio. "I've got the main computer up and running. I think I've found the log, I'll play it for you."

A few seconds later, after a tinny static burst, the voice I recognise from the mayday message, announces, "This is the navigator speaking. This is shuttle AE-1007, destination the Aerian belt, crewmembers: 2. Mission—"

"Dude, what are you doing? That's classified information."

"It's also standard flight procedure. What if something goes wrong?"

"If something goes wrong, Iz, we'll probably end up in Zeban hands. Do you really want them to know what we're up to?"

"No," the first voice concedes. 

"Then, don't tell 'em! Hey, anyone who's listening—who we are and what we're doing is none of your business so get out of here, okay?"

"You can't put that on our ships' log—"

"Watch me."

"I can't believe you put that on our ship's log—"

"Yeah, you'd think you'd be used to me by now—"

There was another brief burst of static. I shook my head, returning to the corridor. The exchange brief as it had been brought a smile to my face—also a wistful feeling. Whoever the navigator and pilot were they were obviously close friends—the tone of their voices said as much. I'd never managed to have a friend . . . 

After a few minutes the log continued. This time the tone was considerably more serious.

"It's the 109th day of the Earth year. We've been hit pretty badly by Zeban lazers. Tai managed to get us out of firing range but he's pretty badly injured. He won't be able to pilot the ship—heck, I'm not even sure if the ship can be piloted. I've put out a distress call on Mission frequencies, and I'm about to see what I can do about repairs. Tai's resting—there's not much I can do about his injury, so I've put him into deep sleep. I'll be joining him shortly. The deep sleep canisters are in the infirmary at the back of the ship. Neither of us have allergies, unless you believe that Tai when he says he's allergic to dressing smartly. If you revive us, I can assure you that Mission control will not let the action go unrewarded. I think that's all."

I follow the directions to the infirmary. The deep sleep canisters were there. I leaned over the first, noting that the life support systems were still up—a faint pulse indicated that the occupant was still alive. 

Brushing away the dust on the top of the cannister, I got my first actual look at him. Olive skin, a peaceful expression on his sleeping face, off set strangely by jagged, untidy hair. A stained bandage around his upper arm indicated that this must be the pilot. 

I start at another burst of static. "God, Taichi . . . I hope you never have to hear this."

The navigator again. He sounds panicked. "I know I said I'd never leave you, and I promised I wouldn't do anything noble or stupid—you made me promise—but the main generator's failing. I can't keep it going. The emergency one that powers the sleep pods is still going, but it won't last indefinitely. I think it got damaged in the fight—"

The navigator's shaky breath echoes harshly in the quiet room. "What I'm trying to say is that I've instructed the ship's computer that if the power source falls to the point where it is unable to sustain us both it is to trigger the emergency reflex that will send my sleep pod into space. Now, before you get too upset, remember the pods are self contained, and have their own power source that can last up to fifty years. I may even make planet fall, before someone finds you and come back to find you-—or, if you get rescued first, you can find me. The pod has a signal you can track—so you can find me, and yell at me all you like then, okay?" A sigh then . . . "See you, Taichi." 

I'm immobile a minute, leaning against the life support pod stunned. To think we've stumbled onto our own mini-tragedy. The other sleep pod is across the room. There are no lights showing. I step across quickly. 

The pod is empty.

There's a clatter of metal outside the door, then Daisuke bursts into the room. "Dude! The Navigator—is he—"

"He's gone," I answer. 

"Dude," Daisuke joins me, at the empty pod. We're silent awhile, both meditating on the brave actions of the navigator we don't even know. At this moment, I don't even feel irritated at Daisuke.

"Come on," I say, prodding him eventually. "We need to get this pod to the ship's doctor."

He nods, and we detach the pod, lifting it on the servo Daisuke has summoned.

I let Daisuke maneuver the pod out of the ship, standing a moment in the silent infirmary. I can't quite explain why this should effect me so deeply. Maybe because I know that no-one would ever make such a sacrifice for me . . . except Takeru, maybe.

"Dude—I mean, Sir, you coming?"

"Yes, I'm coming." With one last look at the absent sleep pod, I leave the infirmary. 


	2. Starlight star bright.

REACH FOR THE STARS. SECOND PART.

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The Mission vessel's hull had been ripped to shreds by the meteor impact. The most damaged were the outside parts--the stealth generator would have to be rebuilt from scratch. On his back on a trolley underneath the hull, Yagami Taichi worked at loosening the panel so it could be refitted. Oil from the tools he was using had stained his shirt, and he looked to have a good three, maybe four hours of work ahead of him.

He was completely and utterly happy.

"Tai!" A voice called. "Have you seen the number eight wrench?"

"I'm using it, Izzy," Tai replied.

The trolley was suddenly pulled backward. Tai blinked as he came face to face with a pair of dark eyes only inches from his own.

"Tai, I told you I needed the number eight. The adjustments to the radar have to be just so."

"I got it first."

His red haired partner hissed in frustration. "Tai, you're being childish."

"So? What are you going to do about it?"

Izzy sighed, then leant forward. "This," he whispered, before bring their lips together. It was little more than teasing contact, Izzy pulling away just as Tai began to respond. "Trade you for it," he said with a smile. "Give me the wrench, and I'll give you a proper kiss."

"Deal," the brown, oil-smudged boy agreed instantly. 

Izzy leant in once more, anchoring his hands in the goggles around the taller boy's neck, before meeting him in the promised kiss. Several minutes passed before either of them attempted to get away.

Eventually the red head let go with a sigh. "The radar--"

Tai nodded, propelling his trolley back under the hull again. As his companion walked away, he began to whistle, picking up the number ten wrench already placed by his side. His hand brushed a metallic tool and he smirked. Just wait until Izzy needs his adapters--

--oOo--

There are advantages to being me. Like having a sister who's a med. She's part cyborg, like me, only instead of choosing parts useful to navigation and piloting like she's got surgical implements and such. Jun reckoned that there were cuter guys at med-school.

I reckon she's crazy.

Crazy or not, she lets us into the infirmary as Dr. Kido examines our find. He's the main reason Jun applied for Mission work, to tell the truth. They were at Med school together, she stalked him for years. He's a nice looking guy, wispy blue hair falling around his face, and glasses--and, according to Jun, he's really smart and kind. I have to agree with her--Jyou's really nice, for crew. He didn't grumble when we woke him up to help us, even though it's late and I suppose we could have waited . . . I mean, the pilot's been in deep sleep for years, probably. What's a few more hours?

"The pod's not damaged," Jyou notes as he flicks open the control interface. A moment later and the glassy top slides back allowing us our first, unobstructed view of the sleeper. I'm surprised. He's young--only a few years older than me, and I'm young to be a mech. If it wasn't for my parts--

Jun does a quick scan. "100% human, no artificial limbs, height and weight distribution average--oh, my Daisuke, it looks like you're got a friend."

I look and see what she means. The pilot's got a pair of goggles slung round his neck. They're round too, exactly the kind I wanted--I touch my square ones, perched in my messy hair, happily. Maybe we can trade? "Cool."

Ishida, behind me, lets out a short impatient burst of breath. "As if one wasn't enough--"

"Jun?" Jyou gently recalls my sister's attention. "A scan of the injured area please."

"Of course."

"Do you think he's a fan of Yagami Taichi too?" I ask no one in particular as Jun and Jyou work.

"The navigator referred to him as Tai--" Ishida says thoughtfully. 

"He may even be more obsessed than you, Dai!" Jun proclaims. "Third degree burns, blood loss, but no sign of infection."

"I'm not obsessed!" I protest. "Well, maybe a little, but who says that's a bad thing?"

Jyou has set a mechanical cast around the pilot--Tai's--arm, and keys in the command to release the anaesthetic spray it contains slowly. "All things in moderation, Daisuke. Even obsessions."

I scowled. I had this feeling they were making fun of me.

"Scissors, please," Jyou begins cutting away the pilot's shirt and the bandages. I lean over interestedly. I've never seen burns before--

"Dai, stop that or you get kicked out."

"Why?"

"It's unhygenic, kiddo."

I scowl at Jun. How dare she call me that in front of Ishida? "Fine." I plonk myself down on the observation bench, meditating on how unfair it is. After all Ishida is allowed to watch . . . except that he's turned away, slightly pale. Scared of blood? Could it be?

Nah, course not. Ishida's perfect, after all.

"Now, then," Jyou turns to Ishida. "Do you know how long he's been in hibernation?"

Ishida blinks then looks at me. "Motomiya, the computer records?"

"Oh, yeah." I still have the information in my memory files. I scroll through it quickly. "The ship left Mission centre 14 EY. Hey--twenty years ago."

"Twenty--so we have a pretty good chance of finding the navigator."

I brighten, I'd been worried about that. "He said the pod would last fifty--so it doesn't matter when he got dropped, he'll still be okay."

"Navigator?" Jyou asks, measuring some liquid and pouring it into a syringe.

Ishida fills him in briefly. I watch as Jyou gives him the injection. "What's that?"

"You know that when a person goes into deep sleep, they're given an injection that suspends their body's normal functions--heart rate is reduced, etc, making it easier to prolong life. This is calculated as the amount necessary to awaken someone who has been asleep 20 years."

"Oh," I wince as he plants the needle in to the pilot's skin. I hate injections--at least he gets to be unconscious. Still--

"He should wake within a minute," Jyou puts the syringe down. "You two are welcome to stay."

"All right!" Ishida is glaring at me again, so I add "Sir."

Jyou laughs. "Tell me more about how you found him."

Ishida is silent so now it's my turn to tell the story. I start with how I discovered the blip on the console, and I'm just explaining the ship's security system when Ishida interrupts.

"It's gone five minutes. Shouldn't he be awake?"

"He's not making any sign of recovery," Jun says. "Body signs are still in hibernation mode."

Jyou picks up a limp hand, and feels the pulse. "Pass me the syringe."

"You're giving him more? Is that a bad sign?" I ask, concerned.

"Not if he was injured. I should have accounted for the fact he was hurt before I gave him the first injection. As it is difficult to guess how much blood he lost before he was put into deep sleep, I'll just have to guess."

Jyou's wrist communicator suddenly blips. "Dr Kido," he says, smoothly and professionally. "I see. Well, I'm in the middle of something--certainly, Captain." He replaces the syringe on the shelf and smiles at my sister. "Jun, you're in charge of the pharmacy and our patient here. When he wakes up, keep him still and peaceful, okay?"

"Okay," Jun grins.

I bet the only thing keeping her from dancing around singing Dr Jyou trusts me is Ishida. See? He spoils everything.

Then again, I know my sister's singing voice. I may actually have to thanks him.

"You guys don't have to wait around if you don't want," Jun says, attaching a monitor to the still sleeping patient. "I'm perfectly capable of handling this."

"Aw, but Jun--"

"As the people who discovered him, we are obligated to see to his recovery. It's our responsibility. Besides, we need to know who he is so we can work out how to return him to his base and family."

"There wasn't anything on the ship's computer?"

I shake my head. "Nothing that was encypted. They said they were on some sort of mission."

"Go back and take another look."

I sigh, of course they're going to make me miss the interesting bits. And I really wanted to be here when he woke up. "Okay, sir."

The ship's computer is trashed, basically. I spend a good half hour trying to coax it into being sociable but it eventually just croaks and the stalls. I traipse back to the medical rooms, to share my failure with Ishida and Jun--although I pick up my pace at the thought that the pilot must almost certainly be awake now. 

But he's not.

Jun just shakes her head as I enter, and my gaze moves from her to Ishida who is standing by the pilot's pod, looking down at him with this almost angry expression. I don't get it. 

"Excuse me, sir? Computer is failing. I couldn't get more from the data banks that what we already know."

"Huh? Oh, right."

Ishida barely glances at me, before his gaze goes back to the pilot. Weird.

"Someone should inform the Captain, though of course, she'll be asleep now," Jun says, yawning herself.

"I'll do that," Ishida says suddenly. "I'll finish the bridge shift too. You can stay here, Motomiya."

Yes! I can't believe it--of course, Ishida probably wants me to stay only so he can have some time alone. That's perfectly fine with me--I just have to be here when the pilot wakes up. 

I wander over to the pilot and pick up his hand so I can measure his pulse. Still faint . . . I don't think there's been any change since we brought him out. 

"Daisuke . . . I just realised I'm not wearing any make-up. Can you handle things here while I fix that?"

I answer my sister sarcastically. "Yeah, it'd be a real tragedy if Dr. Kido saw you without your make-up."

"Oh, hush Dai. I think I'm finally getting through to him." Jun exited the room, leaving me alone with the patient. I leaned over the pod again, watching him. 

Only a few years older than me. And he had goggles like mine, he was actually a pilot, and he flew a scout ship on secret missions--I hope he's nice. If he turned out to be another Ishida--

Actually I was getting to the point where I wouldn't have cared if he turned out to be another Ishida, just as long as he did something. I sighed, my eyes running around the room--and pausing on the bottle that Kido had filled the syringe from. I'd seen where he put the syringe to--

No, I said resolutely to myself. You could get into a lot of trouble messing around with stuff like this. It's best left to the professionals. 

My resolution lasted all of two minutes.

I hope this works, I think, carefully measuring out the potion. If not, we're both going to be in trouble dude--

The pilot doesn't make any sign of life. I replace the syringe, and settle back to wait . . . 

"I'm back, Dai. Say, you wouldn't mind running down the mess and getting some food? The books I've read say that people coming out of deep sleep are usually pretty hungry."

"Sure thing!" 

I'm returning with a tray piled high with all my favourite foods when I see a sight that makes my heart sink--Jun replacing the syringe on the shelf.

"What did you just do?"

"What do you mean? I gave him another injection. I am a medic, and Jyou did leave me in charge."

"But--I just gave him an injection!"

"What? You little idiot--"

I manage to put the tray down before Jun starts strangling me. 

"What on earth?"

There are only a few things that can stop Jun from beating me up. Fortunately Ishida is one of them.

"This is not standard behaviour for a medical room, particularly not one with a resident patient," he says, and Jun automatically lets go of me. 

"I'm afraid this is a medical emergency," Jun retorts. "My idiot brother decided to give the patient another shot without telling me, and I've just given him another--"

Ishida looks up sharply at that and crosses to the pilot's side. "Vital signs are still regular--what sort of side effects can be expected from a patient receiving three times the recommended dose?"

"Three?" Jun looks confused. "But--"

"Dude--" I stare at Ishida. "You gave him one too?" This is great. I can't get in trouble if Ishida did it too--

Jun wails. "This is terrible! Jyou is going to kill me--he'll break up with me for sure--"

"Jyou isn't even going out with you," I remind her. A mistake as it turns out.

"He would if only you wouldn't keep doing things like this!" Jun makes a dive for my throat, I dodge, bumping into Ishida--who ends up sprawled over the unconscious pilots lap.

Then, and only then, does the pilot wake up.

Jun is yelling at me and Ishida is yelling at the both of us, when he gasps suddenly. Jun stops mid strangle. Rubbing my bruised neck I open my mouth to ask what's going on--and leave it open.

The pilot just moved. The hand dangling over the side of the pod just shifted slightly and then his whole body stirs. Sleepy eyelids raise to reveal brown eyes fixed puzzledly on Ishida.

There's a long minute where no one says anything.

Then the pilot speaks. "Izzy, since when did you dye your hair and wear contacts?"

"I'm not Izzy," Ishida says, rather clumsily.

"Then what are you doing in my lap?"

Ishida hastily scrambles upright--wonder why he didn't do that before.

The pilot grips the side of the pod and pulls himself upright. "Where am I? He asks, looking around. "And where's Izzy?"

"That's a long story," Ishida says, with a touch of his usual coolness.

The pilot sighs. "It's going to be one of those days, is it?" His eyes fall on me and he smiles. "Like the goggles, dude."

I knew I liked him.


	3. . . . wish I may . . .

REACH FOR THE STARS Third Part

REACH FOR THE STARS THIRD PART. (Taichi)

__

Izzy sighed with relief as the ship came to a stop. They'd managed to loose them . . . just in time. He'd patched the engine the best he could but it was looking decidedly shaky . . . all they could do was give it a chance to cool down, then see what could be done. 

Tai is going to kill me, the red haired navigator thought. After all, we promised we'd be back for Hikari's birthday—

Still there was no use postponing the inevitable. Hikari was besides, a reasonable person who would understand their circumstances. Tai, on the other hand—

Izzy stopped at the smell of smoke winding down the corridor. Of course—that second jolt. We were hit twice—he ran the rest of the way.

"Tai!"

The bridge was thick with acrid smoke . . . Izzy brought up a hand to protect his mouth. "Tai?"

"Izzy! The bridge took a direct hit—I'm stuck—"

Relief. Tai was alive.

"Hang on a second," Izzy grabbed metal pliers from the repair kit and waded through the smoke to reach his partner. The twisted metal made his wince—but not half so much as the thought that Tai had been trapped under there—who knew how badly he was hurt.

"Ow!"

"Are you okay?"

"Izzy, it's my job to ask the stupid questions!"

He was being sarcastic—Izzy hoped that was a good sign. "Hold still--I'm going to cut you free."

It was difficult--Izzy only hoped he would not cut Taichi. There was one time he thought he had--Tai had gasped, but when Izzy asked him said he was fine. Not that it could have made any difference to what he did--there was only one way to free Tai.

"There," Izzy knelt, looping one arm around Tai. "Can you stand?"

"I can try," Taichi managed to get himself upright but he was none to steady. Izzy just hoped they could get to the infirmary before Tai passed out--his companion was taller than him, and Izzy wasn't certain he could lift him . . . 

"There," he said with relief, as they half fell into the infirmary. "Infirmary computer activate."

The lights flickered on, the only response to his voice command.

"This isn't good," Tai murmured besides him.

"You think?" Izzy didn't normally indulge in sarcasm but he was worried. If the computer wasn't activating that could only mean their power supplies were being depleted fast. A leak somewhere now could be fatal--

"I'm going to have to patch that--"

"Later. Getting you fixed up comes first." With only minimal difficulty they were able to get Tai onto the examination bench. The scan mode didn't want to work at first but Izzy hotwired it and got it to work--albeit slowly.

"I'll be back in ten, to see how it's going. In the meantime, I have to fix the leak." And check that the fire in the bridge isn't spreading and that there aren't any anywhere else--

"Mmm--" Tai didn't sound too aware. Shock was probably catching up with him. 

Shutting the bridge off and draining the oxygen out to be redirected to other parts of the ship took care of the fire. The leak was harder to locate and was going to be a pain to fix, being located in the underside of the ship, the propeller drives to be exact. Izzy shut the power flow to the drive off, knowing that they were now unable to move until said leak was fixed.

The ten minutes up he returned to Tai.

"You shouldn't be sitting--" 

"Relax. The computer said burns, nothing worse than that. Oh, blood loss and they recommend immediate treatment--"

Izzy didn't believe him and called up the data reading of what the computer had told Tai. "These are not just burns Tai. We don't have the equipment to treat these . . . you need a real doctor." Izzy was aware they didn't have many options.

"How's the rest of the ship?"

Izzy gave him a report in a few sparse sentences. "Taichi, there's only one thing we can do--"

Taichi growled. "I hate injections . . . and those pods creep me out."

"It's illogical. Your burns will hurt you more than the injection," Izzy was glad Tai had decided to act rationally, "And they say it's just like sleeping in the pods."

Taichi was quiet as they both helped to manouver him into one. "Izzy--stop thinking about it."

"What?"

"You're thinking that if you don't get into that other pod they'll be more energy left for me--"

Izzy didn't need to reply, his startled expression was proof enough of the accuracy of Tai's statement.

"Forget it. I don't need you to be all noble and sacrifice yourself for me. It wouldn't work anyway."

"How's that?"

"We agreed didn't we? We're a team--the best team in the galaxy. One of us doesn't do something, the other doesn't either--we promised we'd always be together, and you're not leaving me, not even for a second."

"I mean that much to you, huh?" Izzy said with a grin.

"Don't get mushy, yet--I haven't finished. Don't even think that you'd be helping me either. Because if you're not here when I wake up--I'm going to spend the rest of whatever life I have being miserable and hating every second of it."

The determination in Tai's voice made Izzy gasp. "But--"

"Izzy, you're my life. If you go--there'd just be no point."

The navigator smiled, stroking Tai's chin then leaning in to kiss him. "If you say so. I'll send out the distress call, then see if I can't jumpstart this crate somehow--"

"Mmm," Tai sighed as Izzy kissed him one more time. He gave the needle a dark look. "You'd think that if we can build space craft capable of bridging immense distances at the speed of light, we could make an injection that didn't hurt--"

"When we get back, you can mention that to Mission Centre." Izzy administered the injection efficiently. "That was so bad, was it?"

"Not for you, maybe," Tai muttered. "Izzy, can you stay? Till you know--"

"Till you fall asleep. Of course," Izzy leant over the pod, stroking Tai's hair. He smiled, at the serious expression on his companions usually cheerful face. "We're going to be all right, you know. I'm not going anywhere, and you're definitely not--"

Tai smiled at him. "I love you. Have I told you that?"

"You may have mentioned that once or twice . . . personally, I thought you were just in it for the sex--"

"Izzy!"

"What, I'm not allowed to tease you occasionally?" Izzy kissed Tai again, seeing the injection slowly working. "Don't try and fight it, surrender to it. I'm going to be here when you wake up after all."

"Good, because I'm sure as hell not living without you--"

Tai was asleep. Izzy smiled, kissing his partner's forehead once more before sliding the pod door shut and activating the deep sleep mode. Not one to waste time he turned back to the task of dealing with the ship board emergency. 

******

"Twenty years," I repeat. "It makes my head hurt just thinking about it."

"Dude," the goggled boy--Daisuke, I think his name is--says. "That could just be the injections." He's about the same age Izzy and I were when we received our first comission--and just as enthusiastic, despite the strange device on his leg. From mid thigh down, it's covered in metal, to which various hardware is attached. It makes fast movement difficult.

"Sorry about that," the red haired girl says, rubbing the back oh her neck in a shamed way. She's got the same metal panel type thing covering most of her arm.

"I don't think there's any harm done," I assure her. I'm disposed to like these two--their hair is almost the same shade of Izzy's. I'm kind of concerned about the thought of my Izzy free floating in space, but he's got more than enough power to last him, and knowing Izzy, will have plotted himself a nice safe orbit. I just need to get the computer started again and download his course then get our ship working again so I can find him.

Then I'll give him hell for scaring me like that.

"Well it certainly hasn't affected your appetite," the girl--Jun, smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Only person I've seen eat like that is Dai."

"Tell me more about this ship. It's Mission?"

"Uh-huh. A cruiser. We're on a regular patrol, just guarding the perimeters," Daisuke explains. "Captain Takenouchi is so strict though, everything has to happen exactly on schedule--I don't know what she'll think of you."

"Stand up Dai--we're about to find out," Jun hissed, straightening her uniform. I frowned at the sudden flash of metal but before I could say anything, the door clicked open and Ishida entered, with the Captain. 

She looked to be about my age, although she had the air of someone a lot older, cool and detached. Her uniform was neat, hair perfectly groomed. "So, you're the distress call?"

"Half of it. My partner's still out there--" I answered.

"So Yamato informed me."

Yamato--so he does have a first name.

"We have a rather strict schedule to keep, so we cannot offer to look for your partner, especially as it seems he's had quite a while to drift. However, we will offer you a booth on this ship to the nearest port, and transport for what we have salvaged of your craft."

"But--" Daisuke interrupts, immediately hushed by his sister. 

"This mission will continue on schedule," the Captain resumes calmly. "No interruptions. What qualifications do you have?"

"6 yrs with Mission, 4 of which I've been an active member. I'm a qualified mechanic and pilot--"

"Mechanic," The Captain turns to Ishida. "Put him in with the mechs and see that he doesn't cause trouble."

"Of course," Yamato murmurs, holding the door open for her as she leaves. "Show him round and get him somewhere to sleep Motomiya," he commands before leaving himself.

"All right!" Daisuke whoops, once his superiors are safely out of hearing. "Dude--wait till you see this ship--"

I ease myself off the bed slowly and stumble. Jun catches me. 

"Maybe you should get him some sleep first, Dai."

*****

"It makes no sense," Daisuke complained, sorting through various items of clothing. "You've been sleeping for twenty years. You can't still be tired."

I stifle a yawn. "Try exhausted. These for me?"

"They should fit. They're the regulation nightwear."

I snicker. "Mission centre tells you what you have to wear to bed? That is absurd!"

"They didn't when you were a recruit?"

"Hell no. Then again, they gave up trying to make me wear a uniform after the first dozen got damaged seriously while on duty." 

"Cool," Daisuke says.

"But you're not wearing a uniform."

"But I'm a mech--I'm not worthy of one."

"A mech?"

"Mechanic." Dai sighs. "I'm not proper crew."

"That's . . . that's bizarre. Where I'm from--I mean, when I'm from, mechanics were just the same as any member of the crew. In fact most pilots were trained as mechanics, like me. I mean, what happens if you're in a scouter shuttle that gets into trouble?"

"Pilots are assigned a mech. We work in twos. Like you and your partner."

"Izzy was a mechanic, navigator and technology expert."

"You're kidding--you got your own navigator? You must have been some pilot!"

"What's with the past tense? I'm still a pilot--technology can't have changed that much."

"I guess--hey, tomorrow, when you're feeling better, maybe we could look at your ship. I've been collecting old parts as a hobby, I could help you fix it up so you can find Izzy."

"Thanks," I smile. It's nice to know someone wants to find my partner as much as I do--I mean, that Captain could care less. Not that you can fault her for wanting to stick to her schedule, but still--

"Man, that would be so cool, being a pilot and having a partner like that--" Daisuke flopped back onto the top bunk. "I wish I could be a pilot--"

"What's stopping you?" I ask, slipping the regulation nightwear over my head.

"Everything," Daisuke says gloomily.

"Everything?"

"Well dude--look at me!" Daisuke points to his leg. "I'm half machine--they don't let cyborgs take charge of the bridge--"

I stare at him. "Cyborg?"

"Yeah, dude, didn't you know?" He sounds as surprised as I am. 

"No . . . Give me a sec." I steady myself, then climb onto his bunk. "So what part of you is robot?"

"My leg, a lot of my side here--and there's a lot more inside you can't actually see." Daisuke frowns at me. "You've not met a cyborg before?"

"The last twenty years weren't that much of a social experience," I tell him. "Mind if I take a closer look?"

"Go for it." Daisuke let me examine his parts, telling me about the accident. "So, you see because of the parts, I don't qualify for Mission. Law says you have to be at least 60% human to be a pilot. Because of a mechanical failure or something."

"And how much are you?"

"75%."

"Seventy--" I stare. "That must have been some accident."

"Yeah."

Daisuke doesn't seem all together happy with this topic. "I'm sorry, are my questions bothering you? Izzy always tells me I have the tact of a Nguememon--"

He snickers. "No, it's just . . . well, you're mostly human, right? See, most skins won't give me the time of day--they barely tolerate Jun and she's only 40%--"

I listen trying to take this in. Discriminating against someone on the basis that they have robot components? "Something tells me we're not in Kansas anymore."

"Huh?"

"Oh . . . just an old joke. Ask me about it tomorrow, and I'll try and explain."

"Explain . . . you mean, you still want me to help you with your ship? It doesn't matter that I'm . . . you know--"

"Dude, I need all the help I can get. And even if I didn't--I'd rather have your help than that stuffy captain's."

Daisuke beams widely. "I knew I'd like you."

"Huh?"

He's already buried himself under his blankets. "Sooner we go to sleep, sooner it'll be morning."

I grin, climbing under my own blankets. I had the same attitude when I was that age.


	4. . . . wish I might . . .

I sit in my quarters tuning my guitar absently

REACH FOR THE STARS. Part 4-Yamato's POV.

__

The Sylphamon instructress crossed the class with a sedateness not mirrored in the churning stomachs of most of her students. "I have the results of your tests in the flight simulator. Those who've passed will be able to enter the mission training programme for pilots."

She paused, a rare smile flicking across her face. "I must say, I was for the most part very pleased with the results. A 15% pass rate is unusual for a class this varied in make up."

"Why do I feel like everyone is looking at us?" Izzy complained in a whisper to his companion. Tai shrugged. 

"Because they are."

"Hey human!" the Bakemon behind Tai nudged him. "A couple of us are having a get together tonight for those who pass. You two of course are not invited."

"Hey! We might have passed—" Tai protested.

Izzy agreed. "Just because no other human has does not rule out the possibility that we might have been the first—"

"Please remain seated while I hand out the results."

Izzy gulped, clenching his fingers around his desk. If they failed, it would all be for nothing—

Tai placed a hand over his. "Izzy, relax. Remember how much study we put into this? All those long nights you spent making sure we knew the basics, such as putting on our seat belt first?"

"Yeah—If it was all for nothing—"

"It wasn't for nothing. If we don't pass this time, we'll try again."

"Yeah," Izzy took comfort from Tai's determination.

"Besides, you said you thought your practical went well. After all, you got 15 of your targets, didn't you?"

"Yes." Izzy was reminded of something. "Taichi, you never told me how your test went."

"Ah, yeah."

"So?"

"Well, its kind of like this Izzy. I can remember getting into the simulator and putting my seat belt on. Sylphie said to relax and just do what comes naturally . . . and then next thing I knew she was saying that the test was over and I could leave."

"That was it?"

"I can't remember anything else—"

"You must have done something—"

"I can't remember!"

"Oh." Izzy looked at his lap. "I'm sure that's not as bad as it sounds. And if it is . . . I'll repeat the pilot tests with you."

"No Izzy," Tai said. "If you have a chance at getting into the mission pilot programme you should go for it."

"Izumi Koushiro. Yagami Taichi," Their teacher stood in front of them. "I must say I was impressed. You two are a credit to your species."

They gaped at her, staring as she left two evaluation forms on their desks and passed onto the next row.

"So, what did you get?" The Bakemon hung over the desk to talk to them.

Izzy permitted himself a smirk.

"85." 

A pass was 80.

"Hey, no way! I only got 82."

"Tai? What was your result," Izzy asked, turning to his friend. "Tai?"

Tai was still staring at his paper. "Izzy, can you tell me if I'm reading this right?"

Izzy took the paper, scanning it with first trepidition, then disbelief. Finally he put it down, and looked at his friend.

"I think there is only one way you can read a 100% mark, Tai."

The Bakemon fell off his desk.

"No way! A human can't get a perfect score! That's impossible!"

"Apparently not," the Sylphamon instructress purred. "Congratulations Taichi. The last recruit to get a perfect score in the flight test went onto become a great pilot—I'm sure you'll do just as well."

Thank-you!" Taichi beamed. It was just starting to sink in.

Izzy looked at his score again then put the paper down. "I think from now on, you should be coaching me."

--oOo--

I sit in my quarters tuning my guitar absently.

It's one of my moments of free time. I got the last of the files written up and made the proper report of last nights bridge duty. However, playing my guitar is not as soothing as it usually is. 

I place it to one side, sighing lightly.

I wish I could place this feeling of discontent. Whatever it is, it got worse, or stronger when I was working on writing up the discovery of the shuttle and the one pod—

I flick through the papers but the source of this worrying disquiet is not in them. I have a performed my usual thorough task and I can't think of any way to improve them. 

The problem is not with the report, but the subject matter—

I put the papers down with a sigh. 

It's impractical I know. Unnecessary, perhaps even degrading for a pilot of my rank to feel this bad over an everyday decision like this. And yet . . . 

I disagree with the Captain—Sora's—decision. Why is it so hard for me to think of her by her name?

When we get back to planet, it'll be different. We'll be Yamato and Sora, not the first pilot and the Captain.

And what will that make the pilot we picked from the wreckage?

I sigh. I can't imagine that—

Twenty years gone like that. The technology changes since then—he may be forced to start his career over from scratch. It's almost a certainty he won't be allowed to fly again—

Not to mention that his family and friends will be twenty years older. 

It wouldn't matter so much if that had happened to me. I mean, the only one I would care about is Takeru. I bet my father wouldn't even notice if I vanished for that long. 

It's the other pilot I feel worse about though. Just leaving him there—

It would be different if there was more urgency to our return to planet. Yet, we discovered nothing worth reporting. The only reason to return is Sora's sense of duty and my father's strict schedule. 

Wait a minute—I agree with their way of thinking. A soldier should follow his instructions to the letter. After all, if an emergency happens, we need everyone exactly where we can find them.

Efficiency, is good sure. But . . . I'm starting to think a line should be drawn somewhere—

My room is too confining. I walk down the corridors aimlessly, before finding myself heading towards the mechs floor. I hesitate then decide that if my feet led me here, there's probably good cause. If I find Motomiya, I'll probably find the pilot . . . and with any luck, there'll be something I can do—

"You're looking for Dai?" His sister is suitably surprised.

"Yes."

"Is he in trouble?"

I blink. "No."

"Oh. Are you sure you're looking for my brother?"

"I'm sure."

"Well, he's off duty, so he took Tai to wherever they put what was left of his ship. I don't think they were planning on going anywhere else, so they're probably still there."

I thanked her and left.

The mechs quarters made me uncomfortable. It was always so loud and unordered . . . 

True to form I heard Daisuke before I found him. 

"--take the world in a love embrace. Fire all of my guns at once and explode into space--"

"Like a true nature's child. We were born born to be wild--"

"We can fly so high--never going to die. This is so cool! I can't believe you like the same songs as me."

"You kidding? We named our first shuttle after a Beatles song--"

"Cool! So does this have a name?"

"Nah. We were undercover for this, so we got given a smuggling vessel Mission had picked up west of Alpha Centauri. Although I believe Izzy referred to it more than once as the tin can."

I leaned back against the door to the hangar, smiling as I watched them. The two of them had a couple of repair robots and were apparently fixing the external thrusters. Daisuke was running scans on the outside of the ship while the pilot did the actual repairs. 

"I think I've fixed it. Got anything I could use to attach the plate?"

"Dude. Leave soldering to me!" Daisuke beamed. "My implants have to be good for something!"

The pilot laughs. "You're a very useful person to have around Dai. These repairs would take me twice as long without you--" 

"I do my best," my partner said none too modestly.

"You know, when all this is over, do you think anyone would mind if I kidnapped you? Izzy and me could do with more crew if we're going to adapt to modern life--"

"I know Jun wouldn't mind. As for my officers--hell, Ishida wouldn't even notice."

"What's with that? I mean, you're his partner and yet the two of you don't seem at all close."

"I'm not important enough to be worth his attention."

"That's insane. Your partner should be like your best friend."

"Please. Ishida hasn't had a friend in his life--"

I cleared my throat. "Ahem."

"Waaargh!" That was followed by a crash. Daisuke hastily scrambled to his feet. "Ah--sorry didn't see you there."

"Obviously," I sniffed. I actually wasn't mad--the sight of Motomiya falling off the service bench had taken care of the irratation his remark had caused. "I expect you to use proper form at all times, Motomiya. Never had a friend in his life-_sir_."

Daisuke gaped at me.

There was a chuckle from the pilot. "Killing sense of humour--how did you miss that, Dai?"

I feel a pang of what could only be envy. They've known each other less then 24 hours and they're on nick-name terms? I never thought I'd be jealous of a mech and yet--

"Maybe because its usually killing me," my partner replied ruefully. "Um, am I late for duty or--"

"Oh no, nothing like that," I shake my head.

"Oh? So to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?" the pilot said, grinning at me cheekily.

"Well," I started pausing as Daisuke coughed.

"Excuse me," he said, thumping his chest. "Had to sneeze."

I frowned at him. His cough had sounded suspiciously like 'what pleasure?' "As it happened, I had free time and I wondered how you were getting on and whether I could be of assistance," I told the pilot. 

He smiled readily. "Thanks."

Daisuke just stared at me. I glared at him. Was it really so unthinkable that I would help a . . . well, I wasn't sure exactly what he was . . . of anything about him, really.

"AS you can see, Daisuke is looking after me fine. He's even helping me with repairs . . . "

"How is that going?" I asked.

The pilot sighed. "Not as well as we'd hoped. We can fix the external damage easy but a lot of the parts will need to be replaced. Added to that the computer is completely addled . . . it's going to be hard to access the records and find out when Izzy's pod was launched so we can calculate the trajectory."

"I see."

"We're going to have to make planet fall to get the parts you need," Daisuke said. "Luckily I know the right mon for the job! He makes it a matter of pride to stock spare parts for everything, from capuchino makers to engine parts for craft that went out of date fifty years ago--"

"Mon?" the pilot grinned. "You wouldn't be talking about Andromon by any chance?"

"Yeah--hey, you know him?"

"I'm one of his best customers! Or I was--bet he'll be surprised to see me." The pilot smile widened even further, then he noticed me watching silently. "You ever been to his store, Yamato?"

I shake my head. "I don't associate with mechs."

"You're associating with us aren't you?" The pilot says, a hint of argument in his voice. I blink, realising I may have insulted him. Daisuke is not looking happy either. 

"Yes."

"And is it killing you?"

I open my mouth to reply to that but come up with an absolute mental block. 

"Ishida's not going to change," Daisuke says quietly. "That's just how things are in this time, Tai."

"Yeah, well it's stupid. Discrimination on the basis of occupation--that's just the most bizarre thing I've ever heard! All pilots should know how to jumpstart an engine--"

I lean back and observe. When he gets focused on something he really get all into it . . . his brown eyes flash with energy. It's hypnotic.

"In fact, I don't know how many battles were won by mission just by having crew who knew how to do more than one thing. I mean, if your pilot or your navigator gets taken out, you need to have someone there to fill the gaps. Anything else is just absurd."

"Mission centre wouldn't have adopted it as standard operating procedure if it didn't have some advantage," I replied.

"Yeah?" Tai smirked at me. "You offered to help before. What can you do?"

"Well I--" I hadn't really thought this far. I wouldn't have the faintest idea what to do repair wise. And the computer--if Daisuke wasn't able to get anything out of it, what chance did I have?

However--being the son of a general and the first pilot of the ship did have some advantages. "Come with me," I said, grabbing his wrist so he didn't have a chance to argue. "And I'll show you."

Daisuke opened his mouth. "Can--"

"Restricted area," I told him flatly.

"Oh."

"I'll tell you about it--" was all the promise Taichi managed to make before we left the hangar. 

"Not so tight!" he complained as I pulled him through a myriad of passages. 

"Sorry," I said, loosening my grasp a little. 

My companion sniffed. "Not too well trained in manners, are you? Or do you figure you're too good looking to need them?"

"Actually I was very well trained in manners and--" I paused as what he said caught up with me. "Wait a minute--are you telling me off or flirting with me?"

"Oh, you noticed?" He grinned at me again. "Both, Ishida Yamato."

"Yamato," I said, without really knowing why. "And you can't be flirting with me--"

"Why not?" he was unrepentant. "I think someone has to. I don't think I've met anyone so cold--you need something to make you smile."

I couldn't come up with an answer to that. Instead I grabbed his hand again and resumed pulling him down the corridor. "You shouldn't flirt with me. I'm the first pilot."

"Flirting with a superior officer, you mean? But Yamato--" he paused and I could just imagine the grin that accompanied the next words. "You're not _my_ superior officer."

Why did he have to be right? I gritted my teeth. "Furthermore I am engaged to be married shortly."

"All the more reason for me to flirt with you now!" the pilot was not daunted in the least. 

Luckily we were almost at our destination. A sealed off door was at the end of a corridor. I keyed in a special access code at the panel beside the door. 

"Ken? Are you there? It's Ishida Yamato."

There was a short pause before a reply issued from the intercom. "I'm here, Ishida-san. Is there something you require?"

"I'd like you to meet an . . . acquaintance of mine," I said.

The pilot grinned. "For someone who says he doesn't associate with mechs--"

"You're a pilot," I snapped, almost missing Ken's quiet response. 

"You know I don't like visitors, Ishida-san."

"I didn't forget. However, he is in dire need of your skills."

"I do not offer assistance to everyone who needs my aid--"

"You'll want to help Tai," I said firmly. "You have a common loss."

I took the silence from the intercom as invitation to continue. "Taichi's been seperated from his home and family. His shuttle was wrecked twenty years ago, we picked him up yesterday. However his other crew member is still missing--"

The door quietly folded inward.

"Be polite," I whispered as we entered. "Ken was something like a prince on his home planet."

The pilot nodded, serious for once. 

The air was think with strange smelling air. I noticed Tai wrinkle his nose at it. "Ken has his quarters filled wit the air of his home planet," I explained. "Arcon has a much higher density of--"

"There is no need for a geography lesson, Ishida. My former home is not of interest to your companion." Ken emerged from the shadows. Rather than being dressed in his customary uniform, he wore an ankle length robe, stiff with heavy embroidery, a pattern of vines and leaves. The unfamiliar garb accentuated the pale blue tinge of his skin, and the darker blue of his hair, falling like silk over his pointed ears, the tips of which were just visible. 

I indicated Taichi. "Ichijoji Ken, this is . . . I've forgotten your name."

"Yagami, Taichi."

Had I heard his full name before? For some reason it stirred memories--

"Greetings," Ken said, looking at my companion. It was hard to tell what emotion glittered in his dark eyes. "I will be pleased to assist you."

"Thank-you," Taichi sounded faintly bemused, looking at me.

"Ken is the navigator of this ship," I explained. "No one can calculate star patterns or ship trajectories like he can. If anyone can find Izzy . . . "

Ken nods. "I'll need to know exactly where you were picked up, and the route of your ship."

Taichi nods, and, as Ken draws up a star chart, recites the ship's settings. I'm happily surprised to discover that although he dresses like an idiot, his grasp of the numerical course setting data is keen.

"That should be more than enough to work with," Ken nods approvingly. "I work best alone. Bring him back in a couple of days Ishida-san."

I nod and stand up, ready to leave. Ken forestalls me however. "How are you finding the latest piece?"

I grimace. "The fingering is a bit tricky when you don't belong to a race that is naturally ambidextrous. If I rewrite some of the chords, I should be fine."

"Bring it with you next time. I might be able to help," the solitary navigator nods, then melts back into the shadows. I motion Taichi towards the door.

"What was that about?" he asked as we headed back to the hanger.

"Ken's homesick. I happen to play a guitar and be extremely bored. He's been writing the songs of his planet into a form I can play and I've been playing them," I explain shortly.

"Sense of humour. A hint of compassion--maybe there is hope for you after all." My companion commented.

"Motomiya doesn't like me, does he?" I asked wryly. 

"What do you expect? We treated captured enemy soldiers better than you treat Daisuke--"

"You've got no right to--" I was interrupted.

"Yamato! I thought I heard your voice," Sora trilled happily. I blinked at my fiance.

"Sora."

"I was just going to look for you. My mother has sent us such a lovely video transmission--you have to see it."

"I was just--" I started.

"And I know you're not on duty now so you've got no excuse not to!"

"I was taking Taichi back to the hangar--"

Sora noticed Taichi for the first time. The officers quarters are a restricted area," she said coolly. 

"I have to get back to the hangar anyway. Thanks Yamato." The pilot grinned at the two of us. "I can find my way back--after all, I'd not want to interrupt you two making out in front of the video--"

"What?" Sora sounded affronted.

"Well, isn't that what couples do?" He winked at me. "See you later Yamato. Don't miss bridge duty."

My face was the reddest it had been in my life. Sora frowned at his back. "If all pilots were like that 20 years ago, I don't see how Mission could have functioned. Well, don't just stand there like someone slapped you, Yamato. Come and watch the video."

We watched the video. We did not make out.


	5. . . . have the wish . . .

There was this to be said for the space port ****

REACH FOR THE STARS 5.

By girl starfish.

__

There was this to be said for the space port. True, it was a medley of unplanned constructions, each and every one of them from a different galaxy, each and everyone slightly different in shape, colour and build. True, the chaotic nature of the place made the established planet community turn up its nose, citing the errant nature of the migrants who filled the port, in a stream of what seemed like constant movement. True, it was a confusing mass of different cultures, aliens from all over the galaxy blending in a mass that resembled nothing so much as a jigsaw puzzle, with no two pieces from the same original puzzle. 

But only in such an atmosphere could the two humans have walked down the street, singing off-key at the top of their lungs, and attracted no attention, other than the occasional shaking of a head, and the accompanying mutter of 'student.'

The space port knew students, and recognised an end of term celebration when it saw one.

'In the town where I was born, there lived a man, who sailed the seas—"

'And I would walk 500 more, just to be the—" Tai blinked, as his ears caught up with the rest of him, telling him something wasn't right.

'And he told us of his life, in the land of submarines.'

'Dude! Izzy!' Tai stopped walking. 'What are you doing?'

Izzy blinked. 'Singing. What did you think I was doing?'

'But we finished singing Beatles songs ages ago!'

'No we didn't.'

'Yes we did.'

'Tai, I think I would notice if we'd stopped singing Beatles songs.'

'Oh yeah? Then what was I singing just now?' Tai demanded triumphantly.

'Uh—' Izzy blinked, suddenly realizing he had very little recollection of anything that had happened in the recent history. 'Um, what are we doing here?'

'Uh . . .' Tai looked around. 'Good point. Let's see . . . we finished exams. Gabumon invited us to go get drunk to celebrate, which we did and then . . . oh, yeah! We're going to see Andromon!'

'Of course!' Izzy couldn't believe that had slipped his mind. 'Let's go then.'

Andromon's junkyard and workshop was huge, spanning two yards, and a building that extended underground as well—by exactly how far, no one knew.

Except, Andromon.

The mechanic alien smiled as he caught sight of Tai and Izzy making their way through the yard, pausing occasionally as they spotted a new arrival. He tapped one of his mechanical assistants. "Fetch the power gauge in my office,' he ordered, before going to meet the boys. 'And alert our visitor.' 

'Andromon! Dude! You look well. Very shiny," Tai greeted the robot..

"Tai!" Izzy hissed, elbowing him. "Ignore him," he said to Andromon. "He's drunk."

Taichi stuck his tongue out. "So are you."

Technically Andromon wasn't a robot, although he was largely composed of mechanical parts, and indeed, retained none of his original organic parts. A robot would not have smirked at the argument being carried out before him.

'I take it the exams are over?'

'And not a moment too soon! Man, if I'd had to sit through another one of Gennai's lectures I'd have died!'

'It is fortunate then that you didn't. Otherwise I'd have had to look for a new buyer for the power gauge you ordered.'

That got Tai and Izzy's immediate attention both. 'It arrived?'

'Dude, you are the man!'

Andromon smirked again. 'It was hard but I managed to track down a pod on Juppiter of the exact model your equired. I also picked a few more power couplings, if you need them.'

'We could do with a few more. Taichi overheated the last ones,' Izzy sighed. 'That's why we need the power gauge.'

The machinedramon beeped, depositing its cargo on the bench. 'The gauge.'

'Here you go.'

Izzy picked it up to examine it, while Taichi started flicking through his wallet.

'No charge,' Andromon said. 

"But—Dude!'

Izzy and Tai stared at him.

'This isn't exactly an item you can take off the shelf! You went through a lot of trouble to find that piece—" Izzy protested.

'You can't really want to give it to us!' Tai agreed.

Andromon smiled. "Well, she does." 

Izzy and Tai stared in the direction he pointed. And kept on staring.

The object of their startled looks grinned back, not at all nonplussed. In fact she seemed rather pleased by their reactions.

She was a human, light brown hair cut short around her face and of a slight build. 'I take it you guys didn't get my message.'

"Kari? How on earth did you get here?'

She laughed. 'Don't I even get a hug, big brother?'

Taichi laughed, scooping up his younger sister. 'Still a know it all, huh?'

"Still an idiot," Kari grinned, hugging the brother she hadn't seen in ages. She was relieved—being a mission trainee hadn't changed him too much. 

"Kari!" Tai said, eventually putting her down. "What are you doing here?"

"Being suffocated by you."

"Besides that," Izzy laughed.

Hikari laughed. "Hi Izzy! Have you gotten taller?"

"I hope so," the red head replied, moving forward to hug his practically-sister. "You appear to have matured dramatically."

"Thank-you, Izzy," Kari grinned. "It is so good to see you guys!"

Andromon motioned his mechanical assistants away. The humans looked as though they would appreciate being disturbed. 

"So, Kari, what's this about?" Tai asked after another five minutes of the humans exclaiming over each other. 

"Last time I checked this mission centre wasn't a budding tourist destination," Izzy added. "And unless a millionaire left you his fortune, you wouldn't be able to fly here on a whim."

"What gives?" Tai asked.

"Tai you should check your mail, once in a while," Kari said. "Mum and I have been writing to you about this for weeks and weeks!"

"I had exams," Tai said defensively. "I've been flat out."

"It doesn't matter," Kari grinned . "It means I get the opportunity to tell you in person." She smiled, resembling a certain well known cat. "I'm going to be studying here. I won a scholarship into the missions science labs—"

"You're kidding! Kari, that's great!" Tai hugged her again. "Izzy this calls for celebrations!"

"Another one? But we're already drun—" Izzy got kicked by Tai. "Broke," he amended, rubbing his bruised ribs.

"I'll shout us all ice-creams," Tai offered.

"I won't say no," Kari grinned. 

"So, tell us what kind of study you'll be doing," Izzy said as the three left.

"Studying viruses," Kari explained. "At a molecular level, of course, and forming antidotes."

"Sounds fascinating," Izzy said. 

"Sounds hard," Tai said. "Oh well, at least one of us was smart, so our parents won't be too disappointed if we fail our exams."

"What do you mean we? I'm not failing anything."

"Now its your turn," Kari said. "What have you two been doing?"

"Studying," Izzy said. "And contrary to what your brother tells you, we're not doing too badly."

"I know. When you two got into the mission pilot programme, the media on earth went nuts. No one had ever got that far—"

"We rock," Tai shrugged as if that explained everything.

"Can't fault logic like that," Izzy muttered.

"You—" Tai punched him. Izzy was prepared for that and fought back. Kari shook her head as they scuffled, eventually colliding with the side of a building. 

"There! Got you!" Tai panted, holding Izzy back against the wall.

"Yes you do. Now let me go."

"I'm not letting you go that easy—" Tai smirked, leaning in to Izzy.

"Somehow, I didn't think you would—" the red head, muttered, heart thumping.

Tai's grin just widened and he bent down to kiss Izzy—

"You two didn't spend all your time studying, I see."

Tai and Izzy jumped, scrambling away from each other. 

"Kari!"

"I forgot—"

"Oh don't worry," Kari grinned almost as widely as her brother had. "Go ahead, just pretend I'm not here."

Izzy and Tai looked at her then at each other. 

"Lets just get those ice creams," Tai said, resignedly.

--oOo--

I looked at the muck on my plate, then slowly prodded it with a fork. It wobbled slightly. "I still say it can't possibly be organic."

"Well what do you think it is then?" Miyako sighed, with that impatient yet superior tone she'd perfected. "We've ruled out it being recycling produce."

"Something synthetic? Maybe they've come up with some sort of experimental cleaning compound they want to test for safety reasons and—"

Miyako snorted, having to choke a giggle. "You're impossible, Dai."

"It could happen," I protested, returning to poking my meal. "Maybe it's a unidentified substance, maybe from that planet we were on and they're testing it to see if its an alien life form or something."

"Alien life form? Isn't that a bit far fetched, even for you?"

"Have you eaten the cafeteria food?"

"Good point."

Miyako and I looked one last time at our 'meals' then turned to see what was in the package that Miyako's planet bound parents sent her regularly. Hey, who needs Mission food when you can subsist off muesli bars and junk food?

"I have to admit," Miyako said, "that I owe my parents a lot. If I'd had to eat cafeteria food one more week, I'd have died."

"Thanks for sharing," I said fervently.

"Hey, no sweat. After all, it wouldn't look good on my service record if I didn't—Captian's mech implicated in homocide, after allegedly forcing a comrade to eat cafeteria food."

I snicker. So Miyako might be a know-it-all, and Sora's mech, but she's cool. And the only other young mech on this ship. She's only 30% cyborg, but she's really intelligent—and can you believe, she volunteered for this? She says she likes the feeling of being aboard the big cruisers, but not having the responsibility of piloting them.

I say she's nuts.

She says I'm an idiot.

We get along just fine.

"I can't wait—just two days until we get to earth. Real food!" I crow, pausing. "Um, Miyako?"

"Yeah?"

"I think my meal just moved."

"What?"

"It moved—it is a life form!"

Miyako laughed. "Oh Dai, you are so immature—"

I poke my tongue out at her. "Am not."

"Excuse me."

We both look up automatically, and I freeze. Takeru—what's he doing here? And—he's seen me acting like an idiot—

"Yes, sir?" Miyako says politely. Lucky that one of us has regained sufficient motor skills to talk. "Do you want something?"

"I was wondering if I could sit here," Takeru says with a smile.

"Of course."

Miyako quickly slides our snacks onto her tray and stands, leaving me to hastily grab my tray with my abandoned meal on it. Hopefully we can find another table, although we may have to share with the other mechs--

"Wait—" Takeru gives us an apologetic smile. "I actually meant sit with you."

From Miyako's expression I can tell he did just say what I thought he said.

"Um—"

"Uh—"

"Of course if you don't want me to, that's fine," Takeru says softly. "Consider it a request, not an order."

"Dude—You really want to sit with us?" Man, I can't help but wish I thought things over before I just blurted them out. That sounded so desperate—

"Sure! Go ahead!" Miyako grinned, sitting back down. "I'm not going to argue with a crew member, particularly an extremely cute crew member!"

Takeru blushes slightly. Well, he wouldn't be as used to Miyako as I am. Damm, but he's cute when he blushes—I'll have to see if I can't make him do that more often. 

"Daisuke? Aren't you going to sit down?" Miyako asks me. I meet Takeru's anxious gaze and realize I'm still standing—oh, hell! This must look so impolite! I sit down quickly.

"Are you sure you want to sit with us? I mean, your crew members—won't they mind?"

Miyako kicks me under the table, shaking her head, but Takeru doesn't seem to mind. 

"I could care less what they think of me. Not one of them can talk of something other than Mission requirements, or what they hope to do once they get promoted. No, I'd much rather be talking with you—that is, if you don't mind." Takeru grins at me. "It was kind of you to explain to me how the interior power generator of this ship worked."

"Ah, anytime," I shrug. This is weird.

"You and Dai know each other," Miyako cut in. "But I'm afraid I don't. I'm Miyako, the Captain's mech."

"I'm Takeru, novice rank. Nice to make your acquaintance."

"Oh, the pleasure's mine."

I shake my head. Miyako was the same over Yamato—until she realized he was a jerk. 

I listen to Miyako and Takeru make small talk, adding an answer in from time to time. This is nice—and according to Taichi, in his time would be considered normal.

"You're off in a daze there, Dai. What are you thinking about?"

"Oh, just something Tai said. You know, where he's from there's no difference between pilots and mechs."

"You mean when he's from, Dai," Miyako corrected.

"Is this the pilot that got picked up last week?" Takeru asks interestedly. "I've been hoping to meet him. So, if there wasn't a difference between pilots and mechs, what was there?"

"Its hard to explain. I don't think that there was any difference because pilots were trained as mechs."

"Makes sense," Takeru said, nodding, and I let out a sigh of relief. Taichi had offended some of the other pilots by mentioning it once—I'd never thought I'd see a situation where Yamato's temper looked good by comparison. In fact, if it hadn't been for the fact he stood there and glared the other pilots into remembering other things they had to do, there could have been a fight—not that Tai seemed overly concerned. And when Yamato had told him off for not being careful, Taichi had calmly told Yamato off.

I had to admit, seeing someone stand up to Yamato was extremely satisfying—I just wish I'd see more of Tai. Ever since Yamato had dragged him off to see the navigator I hardly ever saw him. Yamato had put me to work compiling data banks, so I guess that was one reason, but I knew he'd been spending time with Yamato and that wasn't fair—he was supposed to be my friend—

"So, how's Yamato been?" Takeru asked.

I snort. "Same old same old."

"Ah, come on Dai, he is improving somewhat," a teasing voice said behind me. "Yesterday, he was almost pleasant for ten minutes."

"Tai!" I grin. 

Tai smiled, sitting down next to me. "Long time no see, huh?" He smiles at Miyako and Takeru. "Want to introduce me to your friends?"

"Sure! Dude, this is Miyako, Sora's mech, and Takeru, Yamato's brother."

"I'm Taichi."

"Nice to meet you—" Takeru starts but Miyako squeals. 

"This must be my day for meeting cute guys!"

"Sorry about her," I say, rubbing the back of my head. "When she isn't acting like this, she's being a know-it-all—"

"I am not!"

"Kind of like Hikari." Taichi grins ruefully as we look at him. I don't think he meant to say that out loud. "My little sister. Or at least, she was—"

"Hell—she'll be older than you now," I realise. 

"Yes."

Miyako kicks me again. 

"Once we return to planet a citizen search won't be too hard to do," Takeru offered. "We'll be able to locate your family easily."

"Look, Sora—I mean, the Captain has access to all of Mission's records, even in space. I could distract her while you guys looked up the information—" Miyako said.

I gaped at her.

"What?" she said peevishly.

"That's the sort of thing you always tell me off for suggesting!"

"Well, I did wait for you to suggest it, Dai, but you didn't."

"Does that mean I get to be the one to tell you it's a stupid idea and that if you get caught, I won't have anything to do with it?" I grin, and Miyako swats me.

"You could get into trouble for this," Taichi warns. "Don't do this lightly."

"No sweat Dude. Besides, its not like we'll be doing anything bad. Sora hardly ever needs to access her computer and its for a worthy cause."

"In fact, I'm surprised she hasn't offered you the use of it already," Takeru adds.

Probably considering him the most sensible of all of us, Taichi looked at Takeru then nodded. "Well, make sure you don't get caught. I don't want any of you three getting in trouble because of me, got it?"

"Of course!"

"No problem, Taichi!" I flash him the victory sign. "Just watch me! They won't catch us--"

"Catch you doing what?"

I swear, Yamato is going to kill me one of these days. "Jeez, sir, do you have to creep up on me so quietly?"

"Yes," Yamato replies. I blink—was that humour? He glances at Taichi and raises an eyebrow. "What are you planning?"

"Oh nothing really," Taichi shrugs. "Just the best way to sneak into your quarters and remove all your hair gel."

Yamato flinched. "You wouldn't."

"Just watch me—" Taichi took off.

"Running inside a space-cruiser—"Takeru said, with what sounded a little like awe. "He's going to get in trouble if one of the senior officers catch him—"

"I think he'll be in more trouble if Yamato catches him," I said, having found out the hard way it was a bad idea to get beween Yamato and his styling products. 

"Um—correct me if I'm wrong—" Miyako said, sounding a little uncertain. "But did Yamato just run after him?"

Takeru was scrubbing at his eyes. "That's what I saw—but—"

"What are we waiting for? Let's go before they get back—" I pulled Miyako and Takeru after me. 

--oOo—

"Man, being the Captain has perks. Check it out Takeru—she has a bath and bubble bath!"

"Sora has bubble bath?" Takeru joins me in inspecting the Captain's bathroom. 

"You guys!" Miyako huffs impatiently. "Sora may come back—"

"Relax. You said she'd gone to see Yamato, we all know how long that will take—"

Miyako coughed. "Microseconds?"

"Oh yeah."

"Um, excuse me?" Takeru blinked. "Am I missing something?"

"Oh—ah—" Miyako and I exchanged glances.

"You started this, you explain it. I'll set up the computer."

"Thanks," I muttered as Miyako stalked off.

"Explain what, Daisuke?"

"Its not really my place," I said. "But—well, I'm Yamato's mech, right? So I see a lot of him, and I see a lot of him around Sora. And it's not just me. Miyako thinks so to—"

"Thinks what?"

"Um—Yamato doesn't seem to like Sora much."

Miyako didn't need to be there to kick me for me to know I'd said the wrong thing.

"But—they're engaged to be married!"

"I know," I laughed weakly. "Kind of weird, huh?"

"You must be wrong!"

"That's what we thought—but, they don't seem to act at all like a regular couple." I freeze—"Did I just hear a door open?"

Takeru and I stared at each other then dived for the bathroom. 

We got there just in time. Panting heavily, I tried to quiet my breathing so that it would not be audible in the next room. The Captain's voice was clearly audible—if we got caught--

"Please sit down, Yamato," Sora said. "Can I offer you anything to drink?"

"No thanks." Yamato's voice was cool as ever—no, he sounded slightly more annoyed than usual.

"You don't seem particularly happy with me."

"The way you treated Taichi before was disrespectful," Yamato said and I nearly choked. Was he standing up for a mech?

"Oh, I think you'll agree I have good reason to—oh, Miyako!"

"Sorry Captain, I did not know you were planning to return to your quarters so I thought I'd take the opportunity to do some software checks. I'll just leave."

"Please do."

There was a pause and then we heard the door close. 

With Miyako went our only chance of escape—

Takeru, squashed against me, sighed. "This isn't good—"

"Ssssh," I whispered.

"Explain what you mean, Sora," Yamato said crisply, his voice betraying no emotion.

"Its quite simple. You know that as Captain I have access to the Mission information centre, from anywhere in the universe, on ship or off? Yesterday I decided to run a background check on the pilot. Frankly, I don't like the effect he's having on the crew. The mechs in particular are getting bold—you saw Miyako just now. Furthermore, he is blatantly disrespectful."

"He's been through a great ordeal, and he comes from a time with different standards of behaviour to ours," Yamato said, somehow managing to increase the cold tone in his voice. 

'I will not tolerate insubordination on my ship," Sora said. "Especially not from someone who has lied to us."

Takeru slipped a hand over my mouth as I gasped. Fortunately any sound I might have made was masked by Yamato who seemed to be having a similar reaction.

"What?"

"He lied to us. I've checked the records of the last twenty years. No pilot of the name Yagami Taichi exists. There is no record of the mission he was supposedly on, nothing of the information he's given us can be verified."

There was a long pause. 

"You're sure about this?" Yamato said at last.

"Of course. I double checked everything. I'm sorry, Yamato, I know you were getting close to him—"

I ground my teeth. Sora didn't sound unhappy at all—It plain sucked that she could be happy about something like this. Knowing Tai had lied to me—It hurt.

Takeru's hand gently brushed my shoulder. "Its okay," he whispered.

"I think it best that this matter remain between the two of us," Sora said. "But I'm arranging for the Mission head to send a party to collect him when we reach planet. He'll be more willing to go with them if he thinks we believe him."

Another pause. Then Yamato broke the silence. "Do what you think best."

"Yamato—Yamato! I know you're upset but that's no reason for you to go off and—" Sora's voice faded out angrily as she followed him.

We were alone. 

"You know," Takeru said. "I think you're right. I've seen war footage that was friendlier than those two together."

I got the feeling he was trying to cheer me up. "I have to go," I told him. "I just—"

"Daisuke? I know how you must be feeling but—if you tell Taichi about this, Sora will know we were here and we'll both get demoted, maybe even kicked out of Mission."

I swallow. So my first reaction had been to go to Taichi and demand why—I guess that was ruled out. "Oh yeah."

"It's okay, Daisuke, really it is—"

"No its not! I thought he was my friend!" I haven't a chance of disguising the tremor in my voice. Takeru doesn't seem to find anything amiss though, putting his arm around me gently. "Its okay, Dai. Who knows? Maybe he has a good reason for not telling us who he is—"

I sniff. "You think so?"

"Hey, you never know."

It was then I realised that Takeru's arm was around my shoulder, and had been for a while. I blinked at him, surprised by the amount of concern in his eyes. 

"Thanks," I whispered, not really trusting my voice.

"Any time," Takeru said, squeezing my hand. "Now lets get out of here. We don't want to get caught by Sora now!"


End file.
